Polkadots And Moonbeams
by G. V. HornBeck
Summary: We will live in the light of the sun again, dancing in the river of life and knowing that it'll never end. Forever by your side we'll never have to say goodbye. -A series of Zutara oneshots-
1. Acronym

I Can Hear the Bells

Narritive

"Talking"

_Thinking_

* * *

_M.I.A. or Missing in Action: a status assigned to armed services personnel who are reported missing during active service. People who are declared M.I.A. are usually assumed to be dead or prisoners of war, but I swear the next time I see him he'll _wish _he was one of those things!_

I felt like fool for standing there and waiting for him, for my deserter. The people around me muttered and murmured voicing their doubts while trying to keep me in the dark. Yet as I stood in front of the altar in my mother's dress I knew he wasn't coming. It was supposed to be a special day, a day of celebrations and new beginnings. It was supposed to be my day, our day, yet all it had brought was pain. My chest seemed to be numb and ache at the same time and my anger was slowly smothered the cold feeling of rejection. I knew what it was like to be turned down but this was different. I had thought he was different.

We hadn't known each other for very long by some people's accounts, though the year and a half had seemed like forever to me. Looking back on it, I couldn't help but find the fact of how much I used to hate him funny. If anyone had told me then that one day I would be in love with the arrogant pig, I'd have called him or her crazy. He had been a brash young man then, a young man who's every move was ruled by his anger. I loathed him, he despised me and that was the end of it. Or so I thought until Toph met his uncle and decided to make it her duty to integrate the man into our group of friends.

From that point on he was always around. If my friends and I wanted to go the movies, there he was being dragged along by the short girl. The worst part was he _hated_ the fact that Toph took him under her wing. He didn't even have the decency to fake some gratitude towards us for dealing with him. And he always, _always_, picked fights with me and we would end up arguing for hours. However, in a sense those times were the beginnings of my end.

The more we fought, the more I got to know about him. Before I knew it our bickering had turned to bantering and our arguments to teases. We had formed a connection through our mutual use of each other for stress relief and again I thought that would be the end of our relationship. Except once more Toph had a brilliant idea; to force us to play 7 Minutes in Heaven in a closet that could close but not open. For three hours we sat in a tiny room and talked about everything from our mothers to our favorite foods and when we finally got out, I somehow new things wouldn't be the same between us. A month later he asked me if I would go to the movies with him and after almost a year to the day he left me at the altar.

_I can't believe I actually thought he changed._ I could feel tears running down my cheeks and most likely ruining Gran-Gran's makeup job, but at the time I didn't care. All I wanted to do was leave that wretched place and never look back. I started towards the side of the church when a voice stopped me.

"Katara, I'm so sorry."

I silently wished he was the one speaking but I would only be fooling myself. The speaker was the pastor of the church and someone who I knew very well. Growing up I always believed he would be the one I'd meet at the altar, but somewhere that all changed. It changed with my deserter.

"It's okay, Aang," I lied, knowing full well he didn't buy it. "I'm fine."

Aang's eyes shone with an emotion I despised; pity and that sparked my anger to life. _How dare he do this to me? He could have at least told me it was over to my face!_

In my rage I remained oblivious to the sudden silence that spread over the room like a fog. Nor did I notice the chill that seeped in through the now open doors along with a panting man.

"Katara…" Aang began before fading out. I was about to snap at him for delaying my escape even more when I finally realized the change in the room's atmosphere and where my friend was looking. And that's when I saw him.

He sprinted down the long aisle in a way that seemed to almost mock my role in the wedding. His hair was a mess with half of it slicked down and the other following its normal style and his tux was crumpled and wet. Yet despite his disheveled appearance, I couldn't help but think he looked handsome.

"You just had to have the wedding in the middle of winter," he wheezed when he reached me. "And the day after a blizzard no less! It just couldn't be in the summer like I wanted." I might have believed his complaining if his smirk hadn't given him away. He thought it was alright for him to be hours late! Before I could say a word he made an attempt to straiten himself up and took my hands. "Sorry I was late. The car was stuck under a pile of snow and I had to dig it out."

Horrible couldn't describe how I felt at that moment. I had doubted him and been wrong, but I knew I could save the apologies for another time. As everyone knows the show must go on. "Ten minutes," I stated as I lightly took my hands back and pushed him towards the groom's men.

"What?" He was confused and adorable and I loved it. But soon I'd have a lifetime to love him, all of him.

"You have ten minutes, Zuko. If you're not ready to go by then we won't have time to get to our flight and then there will be no honeymoon."

"Wait, what?" Zuko was even more perplexed. "That's it? No yelling…? No hitting…? Usually you'd be trying to beat my head into the floor by now."

"Nine minutes," I informed him with a glare. I may have loved him but that wouldn't stop me from causing physical pain.

"Okay, okay!" He took a fearful step back before trying again. "But really, what's up?"

"It because you're M.I.A."

"M.I.A.?" I could feel a soft smile form on my lips as stepped forward lightly kissed him. He may have been an arrogant, pompous, angry, closed up, infuriating man but I knew he was mine.

"Yeah, M.I.A.: My Idiotic Agni."

* * *

**A.N.:** Okay, before anything else I want to explain what this oneshot is apart of. On DeviantArt there is a club called Zutara Eternity ( http:// zutara- eternity. deviantart. com/ ) and the club posts a prompt for artists and writers every week. This story is for the second prompt. I was going to do them in chronological order, but the story for the first one, Hello, is causing me problems. So now I'm just going to write stories for the prompts that I have ideas for. If you're interested I encourage you to check it out. I would join the club, but I'm not apart of DeviantArt.

Now with that out of the way, here are some explanations. The title of this future collection of oneshots is from a song by Frank Sinatra that I like and I think kind of fits the couple. The summery is from a song by the Jonas Brothers that I found by Googleing 'Eternity'. Also every chapter will have a title and the prompt will be in the select chapter box thing. Um, that's all I can think of. Please review and feel free to ask any questions.

**Disclaimer:** I'm a Zutarian. Do you really think I would let the show end the way it did if I owned it?


	2. Twilight

Twilight

Remember, Remember, the Fifth of November

* * *

It was the time where, like the Earth and Air meet at the horizon, our two elements joined. It was the time where the day shifted to night and the sun relinquished its power over to the moon. To many she may not have seemed like much, a girl of average height and build, who's only unique physical feature was her soft caramel skin accentuated by a blue polkadoted dress. However, in the moment that I saw her there was no one else but us. It was like a scene you might read in a romance novel or watch in a movie, where boy sees girl and time stops. You turn your head and scoff at the absurdity of it all and yet quietly marvel at love so pure it could feel like nothing else. That is what I felt when I saw her, and I wanted no part of it.

I had already been fooled once by those wretched feelings people associate with love. Before the attraction had started as nothing more than a slow burn and had grown over time. How could this sudden fool's lust, to call it love would involve admitting such a thing existed, survive when the other had died. I would avoid her at all costs. She was nothing but trouble.

* * *

Despite the fact that winter was just around the corner, Uncle demanded an outside party. He said that since he only turned fifty once he wanted to enjoy every minute of it. Lucky for everyone else we were having a warm November. However Uncle, being the manipulative man that he was, also demanded that I play the part of host. If I had actually cared, I would've felt sorry for the people who had to put up with me.

The worst part was I had no desire to be there. All I wanted was to be someplace far away, trying to forget the past week. The only thing that was going for me was that the act of staying away from the polkadot girl had remained a relatively easy task that helped keep my mind focused on the here and now.

I continuously stayed on the lookout for the girl, making sure our paths wouldn't cross. I noticed she seemed to be a social person and constantly weaved through the party's crowd to talk to one person or another. Sometimes without any intention I would find myself watching her, curious as to what she was talking about and silently hating myself for liking the way she looked when she laughed. As I watched the girl, I noticed a boy who constantly shadowed her, glaring whenever another guy got near. At first I thought he was her boyfriend, but after a while she turned around smacked him on the side of his head. The two seemed to freeze before the boy's face became an unhealthy shade of red and he began yelling something about brothers and protecting.

"She _is_ a pretty one, isn't she?"

My heart stopped for a second from the Uncle inflicted shock. In spite of all the complaining he made about stiff joints and creaking bones, he never lost the ability to sneak up on me. Quickly swallowing my fight or flight response, I glowered at the man.

"What are you making up this time?" So what if he was dead on, he didn't need to know. Nevertheless, if the grin growing on his face said anything he could see right through me.

"Nephew, I have seen you watching her all afternoon," Uncle sighed. "I may be old but I'm not blind. You should ask her for a dance! Why, if I was your age I would..."

Never would I ever want to listen to Uncle talk of picking up women. It was one of the few things I found worse than nails on a chalkboard. In mild frenzy, I looked about for something to distract him from his current spiel, but the arrival of a gruff young woman saved me.

"Hey there, Sparky! Pleasant as ever aren't 'cha." A quick jab to my arm solidified Toph's entrance and silenced any retort I had ready on my tongue. She knew I was looking for an escape and I would have to pay for her assistance. "Thank you for inviting me, Uncle, but from the gossip I've heard, your host is slacking," she smirked, turning to me. "I think we should send him back out, don't you?" If pure evil ever needed a spokesperson, Toph would be the ideal candidate.

"Toph, my dear!" Uncle gushed while pulling the girl into a crushing embrace. Every so often I truly loved payback. "I'm so glad you could come. How have you been?"

"I-I've been great…" Red didn't even begin to describe the color of her face which was contorted into a scowl directed at me. "Shouldn't you be 'meeting and greeting'?"

"I think you would be much better suited to the job than me," I taunted. Toph's parents had a history of holding lavish parties and of dolling up their only daughter for the events. They never seemed to grasp the fact that their child liked dirt and fights, not dolls and flowers. "Or at the very least you could give me some tips. Tell me, how is it that you pull off pink so well?" Toph's eyes hardened with determination. She wasn't about to let me win the war.

"She is quite right, Nephew," Uncle interjected, efficiently putting an end to our bickering. "Go and mingle. It will do you some good."

With a well intentioned push he took me from my twisted sanctuary and threw me back into the lion's den. Before I completely submerged myself in the crowd, I looked back at the two. Toph's mocking smirk and her tongue pointing at me did nothing to lighten my mood. The polkadot girl was temporarily forgotten and as I meandered, I became lost in my heavy thoughts.

Uncle was wrong. Being a part of the celebration would not do me some good. People don't go to large gatherings right after a bad breakup. They lock themselves in dark rooms and wish that severe bodily harm would befall the ones who hurt them. Yet despite the fact that all I wanted to do was curse the lovely witch that played me, I had enough of a heart to try and make Uncle as happy as possible. So I plastered on a smile and played my role as the day finished its transformation into night.

* * *

"Hi, how are you? Glad you could make it. Thank you for coming." I tried not to stay near one person for too long in fear that he or she may actually want to talk to me. _Keep it short and simple, short and simple, _I chanted in my mind. _Get in, get out._ "Yes, Aunt Wu, Uncle does look good. No, Mr. Bumi, we don't have any rock candy. Jeong Jeong, Uncle says-!"

Abruptly, I pitched forward as another body collided with my back. "Oh! Beg your pardon," said a distinctly female voice. It was the straw that broke the firebender's back. In a flash, I was enraged and sick of the "fairer sex"! I turned to face the brat as the air around me became hot.

"Why don't you wat-" The night was cold, deathly cold. With the girl's face so close to mine I finally realized who she was. My anger quickly drowned beneath waves of more hormonal thoughts, such as her dress wasn't covered with just blue polkadots but light greenish-blue and black ones as well. When my eyes drifted back to her face I felt foolish for ever thinking anyone could see her as less than beautiful. She was a pug-nosed dream. The soft illumination of paper lanterns may have accented the cinnamon of her skin, but it was the pale glow of moonbeams reflected in her glowering eyes that stopped me in my tracks. On any other woman a scowl capable of frightening grown men would be unattractive, but on her it was just the opposite.

"I said, "Beg your pardon,"' she seethed. "Most people with half a brain would realize that meant, "Excuse me!'"

_A pretty face with a pointed tongue. I don't like her._ I grasped that thread of dislike and anchored myself to reality. She was angry at me; I was disgusted with myself and angry at her for the curse with which she was plaguing me. "'Excuse me" doesn't change the fact that you ran into me," I jabbed, figuring it was best to push her over the edge and get away, and hoping she wouldn't put up much of a fight. Sadly I didn't know her very well.

"What? How is this all my fault?"

"You ran into me, that's how."

"Last time I checked it takes two people to make a collision!"

"I was standing still, and I didn't know that was something people checked."

"You could have stepped out of the way. Also, don't get smart."

"I don't believe I should have to change my ways because of your ignorance."

"How dare-!"

"Ah! It is always such a great sight to see two people getting along so well," Uncle intervened, suddenly taking my focus away from the girl. A circle of people had formed around us and they were all watching in stunned silence. "Though I might ask you to keep it down a little."

"We weren't getting along, Uncle," I growled trying to use rage to cover the insecurity so much attention brought.

"Yes, yes Nephew. But perhaps you should ask the lady to dance all the same?" A mischievous lilt laced Uncle's voice. I wanted no part in what he was scheming.

"That's alright, Mr. Iroh." Despite her aggravating personality I found myself thankful towards the girl. "I'll just be on my way."

"Now, now. I'm sure he would love-"

"Uncle, she said it-"

"Zuko." There it was; the passive-aggressive, do-it-or-I'll-be-very-disappointed, stern stare that he had so long ago perfected. I could already feel the guilt crawling up into my chest and beginning to nest.

_One dance can't hurt…much._ Swallowing my pride, I extended an arm to the girl and forced out, "Could I have this dance?" Uncle cleared his throat and quick glace at him revealed that the look was still plastered on his face. "…Please."

No one in the history of the world could have believed I actually wanted what I asked. Mentally I begged the girl to hate me enough to deny my request, but the smirk that slid across her lips told me I would have no such luck.

"Alright," she sneered and walked towards the dance speakers. Begrudgingly I followed, all the while wondering what she was going for and wishing that death would come quickly.

* * *

Back and forth we swayed with the music, foreign in each others arms. I felt like I was back in middle school and it was my first time dancing with a girl my own age. The air seemed awkward and tense and I didn't know where to look. She remained quiet for a long time and while I felt no need to strike up a conversation, the silence didn't help the situation at all.

"So…your name's Zuko," she stated out of the blue.

"Yeah." We lapsed back into silence.

"Don't you want to know what my name is?" she asked with a bite.

"No, I don't' believe I do."

"You're really rude, you know that?"

"Yeah." Back and forth, back and forth._ I could swear the song should have ended a while ago._

"I'm Katara, you prick."

"Pleasure to meet you, you twit."

The grip on my shoulders tightened as I felt Katara's back straightening beneath my hands. Sparing her a glace, I quietly gave thanks that looks couldn't kill. A ferocious storm had begun to brew beneath her pretty exterior, causing a frown to turn her lips and a crease to form between her brows. The scowl was slightly intimidating yet I couldn't help but think the little wrinkle was vaguely cute.

"I can't believe someone like Mr. Iroh is related to you," she hissed, hitting a point lower than her could have known.

"Neither can I," I murmured. "How do you know we're related?"

"You called him, 'Uncle.' He called you, 'Nephew.' You may be a pompous pig, but that doesn't mean I'm stupid."

"Ha-! That was so lame I almost laughed," I threw back. Once more I was disgusted with myself as I forced down a smile. I found our banter enjoyable and it pissed me off. Katara was a girl and she was a brat. A quick wit wouldn't change those facts and my opinions.

The song subtly switched to new tune, but when Katara made no move to leave I continued our swaying. The air wasn't quite as tense as before and I almost enjoyed our dance until I felt someone watching us. I turned my head to find the voyeur and when caught sight of her I felt my stomach drop. Stoically, she walked to me drawing Katara's attention. When she finally reached us, I discovered that years of reading her told me that she was enraged beneath her calm facade.

"Zuko," she greeted in her ever-present monotone.

"Mai…"

I'd been with her long enough to read the signs, the ridged set of her shoulders, the barely noticeable grinding of her teeth. She was mad, madder than I had ever seen her before.

"We need to talk." It was an order, no room for negotiation. So I followed her out past the dancers and crowds to a deserted part of the party. I couldn't help but wonder what she wanted from me.

_I may have been the one who broke it off but she was the one who-_it didn't matter. Anything between us was now dead and gone, and it probably had been for a while.

"So this is why you broke up with me, to run around with some water loving harlot."

Her sudden accusation threw me off kilter by its absurdness. I hoped to induce the punch line with a shocked, "What?" but I should have known better with Mai.

"I didn't know low class was your thing," she droned. "And you made it seem like it was all my fault."

If I could have given a color for my emotions at that moment, I wouldn't have picked red. Red didn't begin to describe my anger. The night's frustrations and a week full of pent up depression overflowed into a torrent of boiling rage.

"What do you mean I made it seem like your fault," I seethed. "You were the one who chose to cheat on me with that earth bastard! It _was_ all you, your choice, your actions."

Her normally calm mask started to distort into one of irritation. "So you're saying I purposely threw you at that water bi-"

"Don't talk about Katara as if you know her." Not that I knew her, but that wasn't important at the time. "And don't bring her into this. This is between me and-"

"Jet I told you, we're through! I don't want to talk to you so just leave!" The shout from a distinctly furious Katara stopped Mai and my argument in its tracks. Katara marched blindly towards us followed closely by a strangely familiar brown haired boy with a toothpick in his mouth.

"Katara, baby," Jet cooed, "I said I was sorry what more do you want?"

Katara spun to face the boy. "We are far past the "what I want" stage, Jet," she snapped. "You made your choice, now live with it!"

"Jet, what do you think your doing?" Mai asked, unexpectedly.

_Why does she-_

"Mai? What are you…" the boy began before his eyes slid to me. "Oh."

And then it clicked. I knew why he was familiar. It's a little hard to forget the guy you found sucking face with your girlfriend. Even more so when said girlfriend was _enjoying it_.

"I remember you," I growled. "You're the prick who goes after other guy's girls." Mai's face went even stonier and Jet's began to grow red from anger, but it was Katara's shocked appearance that caught my attention.

"You mean, she's the one that you-"

"Jealous, Fire Boy?" Jet taunted. "Upset that _I_ had to supplement your failing relationship because of your inadequacy?"

"Jet, that's enough," Mai declared in an effort to stop him.

I wanted to punch him, to see his face cave in under my fist.

"Does it bother you that your girlfriend constantly came running to me?" he continued.

"Keep going," I warned. I could feel the fire at my fingertips, burning just beneath the surface.

"Do you have nightmares about the fact that no one could ever look at your ugly mug with out cringing in disgust? Well, do you, Scar Face?"

I went for his gut, a ball of flames engulfing my fist and by some unfortunate piece of luck he dodged my attack. We spun around each other, paring and feinting, looking for an opening to exploit. The air warmed because of my flames and stole stamina from both of us, but I was used to its effects and finally gained the upper hand, knocked him to the ground, and prepared to burn him to a crisp.

"Stop! Stop it, right now!" Three pairs of eyes turned to stare at the fuming waterbender. She was breathing hard and sweat rolled off of her from the heat, but in those moments she held more authority than I would have thought possible.

"Zuko, back away from Jet," Katara commanded and hesitantly I complied. Deep down I somehow knew I was better than the alternative. "Jet, leave."

"Who died and made you-" the boy started, but stopped for a growl.

"I said leave!" The earth boy sat for a moment, before silently standing and trudging off. Slowly the atmosphere seemed to calm and the temperature dropped once more.

"Well, now since that's over," Mai breeched, "Zuko we still need to talk."

"No Mai, we don't." The incident had hammered the last nail into our relationship's coffin, yet strangely enough, realizing that fact made me feel slightly better. "We're over. You should leave too."

Mai stood quietly for a few moments before asking, "Is this, what you really want?"

A week, a day, an hour before I would have said no, but something had change since then. "Yes," I confirmed, and with that it was truly over.

* * *

Katara and I stood awkwardly beside each other as we watched the dancers shift before us. The mood was the same as before, the air was still tense with the awkwardness that comes with unfamiliarity and I still felt like a pre-pubescent, socially dysfunctional child, but at the same time everything was noticeably different. The clash of the ex's and the burning of old ties that had followed had somehow put something between us. Not a wall, but more something that connected us, something that bound us to one another. The event had built a bridge, one that wasn't very strong but one that I wanted to strengthen, and shook me. I wasn't sure what would come from this emotional bridge but deep down something inside of me wanted to find out.

Once more the music shifted to a slow tempo and crazy thought struck me. With uncharacteristic anxiousness, I sucked in a breath and asked before my mind could convince me of otherwise.

"May I have the next one?" _Idiot! What are you_,_ some crooner stuck in the fifties?_ Of course she would turn me down, I sounded like some stuck up, creeper of an old man. My only wish was that her rejection would be quick so I could promptly find some hole and die.

"The next one?"

"Yeah, it's okay. I'll just-wait. What did you say?"

"The next one. The next one, what?" The crinkle formed between her eyebrows, though this time it was confusion that swam in her eyes in the place of anger.

"Well …the next…um…you know. Dance." I sounded like an idiot. Worse, I _knew_ I sounded like an idiot and yet I just kept going. Someone should have just come along and put me out of my misery.

"Oh," Katara murmured and I steeled myself for what would come next. "Alright."

The world seemed to tilt on its side as my brain suddenly ceased all intelligent functions. I blindly followed Katara onto the dance floor and when I grabbed her waist, which brought about a whole new wave of mental whit noise, I prayed that my arms weren't shaking. However, if they were she didn't seem to notice past her own red cheeks.

And so we danced as badly as the first time, yet for different reasons. While we shifted back and forth, I could feel the eyes of the other dancers and of the spectators. I knew that somewhere among those eyes were my uncle and Toph and more importantly Katara's unnamed, protective brother and I knew that in all of their gazes were a myriad of questions. And yet for once, for this time, I didn't care and just danced.

* * *

A country dance was being held in a garden  
I felt a bump and heard an "Oh, beg your pardon"  
Suddenly I saw polka dots and moonbeams  
All around a pug-nosed dream

The music started and was I the perplexed one  
I held my breath and said "May I have the next one?"  
In my frightened arms, polka dots and moonbeams  
Sparkled on a pug-nosed dream

There were questions in the eyes of other dancers  
As we floated over the floor  
There were questions but my heart knew all the answers  
And perhaps a few things more

Now in a cottage built of lilacs and laughter  
I know the meaning of the words "Ever after"  
And I'll always see polka dots and moonbeams  
When I kiss the pug-nosed dream

* * *

**A.N.** This oneshot would not end!!!!! I was expecting this to be a short little thing and then it went and got a mind of its own. I haven't updated in forever and a half mainly because half way through this I hit a writer's block like nobody's business. But, it's finished now and if you see any typos, grammar problems, or the like, tell me and I'll fix them. I'm going to make an effort to make these things shorter in an attempt to keep this from happening again. But for now, I'm going to bed. **ALSO**, the title of the song at the end is "Polkadots and Moonbeams" by Frank Sinatra just as an f.y.i.

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Avatar I would attempt to mesh it together with Sci-Fi's Alice, turning it into a mushy, gooey, smorgasbord of squealy goodness that would probably kick start the end of the world. Seeing as that hasn't happened I obviously don't own Avatar.

**P.S.** Hi Rose!!!! I kept listening to Hero/Heroine by Boys Like Girls as insperation to finish this. Just thought you'd like to know.


	3. Magic

…And All That Jazz

* * *

The sultry sound swirled around her like smoke,

Mist,

Drawing her into his world.

In the busy shop she sat, entranced by him and his music,

His magic,

That drove all else from her mind. Normally the cacophony of patrons' voices would drown out the performer, their disinterest forcing him into a self-inflicted isolation on the barren stage.

But not the magician.

He spun his tightly woven spells in the air creating a web of silent rapture that permeated the crowd and fell on their skin like bliss, raced shuddering trails through their bodies, touched their souls.

Touched her soul.

She lost something when she met him on those icy streets in the dead of winter. He had no magic then, only a spark caught in his eye that set something within her aflame. Something that she didn't notice until years later when she was engulfed in a blaze so intense that she had no knowledge of how to douse it,

Or if she wanted to burn.

They had fought a war that spanned their small city-world and tested each other's mind and body. Equals in every right, they had buried the hatchet but the smoldering tension remained tugging at their wits and drawing them closer. Forbidden fruit might have never tasted sweeter, but unfulfilled temptation lay bitter in her mouth. Each of them was tied to another and so separated they stayed,

She, slowly being incinerated from the inside out,

And he, nurturing the magic inside him.

The place where the fire grew began to turn hollow as she resigned herself to the life she would lead married to the child who was her friend, without the man she unknowingly loved.

And then he played.

As his hands danced along the brass sax, its smooth voice controlled the room. In the small tea shop his magic transformed him into an ethereal creature of music and broke the ties that held her to her life.

For it sang the words he could not say,

And showed the emotions he could not express.

She lost something the day she met him,

Lost her world the day he found her.

But she gained him,

And his music,

His love,

Because of magic.

* * *

**A.N.** Yeah, so I'm not really sure if this is a story, or a drabble, or a poem. I just had an idea and ran with it. This entire piece is based on the fact that I like smooth jazz that is played in a sax and that I find the ability to do anything musical, especially play a saxophone well, extremely attractive. I mean, you can tell me the image of a modern-ish Zuko playing a soft, smooth song on a sax in a dimly lit coffee/tea shop atmosphere isn't attractive. But anyway, I didn't name Katara and Zuko because I like the idea of keeping it ambiguous like a song and I had the structure of the piece be loose for the same reason. Yay or nay, I would like to have your opinion. Also, I'm a little scared about this peice since it's the smallest thing I have ever posted. But yeah, REVIEW!

**Disclaimer:** I own no-thing!

**P.S.** *frantic waving through computer at Rose*


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